


Nine Crimes

by brighidg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighidg/pseuds/brighidg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco and Rose are trapped in someone else's plan for revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. so many times betrayed

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to my betas. I spell the name "Asteria" because that's how JKR spells it. I own nothing. JKR, Warner Brothers, and Scholastic Books own the world of Harry Potter and the lyrics used in the fic are owned by their writers and artists. This series was written for rarepair_shorts which is why the chapters are all 1,500 words or less.

Eyes lingering on a faded newspaper photo of the smiling black-haired woman, he remembered how his wife joked that if you cut open his veins, you'd find potion ingredients instead of blood.

Megaerr Bobbin knew everything there was to know about making potions. At Hogwarts, Slughorn had chosen him for the Slug Club based on his skill. Him! A poor half-blood with no money and no reputation. Later, Slughorn took him on as an apprentice and he would go on to be one of the best Potions Masters in all of wizarding Britain. With the little money Slughorn had loaned him, he opened one apothecary and turned it into an entire chain, with businesses not just in the British Isles but France and Holland as well. Slughorn had been proud of his protégé and out of gratitude to his mentor, he'd taken on two apprentices at his suggestion. The first had been Severus Snape - a surly wretch of a boy but undoubtedly talented. Perhaps more so than himself or even Slughorn, had he lived.

The second - Draco Malfoy - had been a mistake Bobbin would regret for the rest of his life. Every bit as malcontent as Snape, he'd had half the talent, and what he lacked there he made up for with ambition and treachery. He had a natural business acumen, Megaerr would grant him that. Malfoy had an instinct for marketing and sales, but Malfoy didn't know potions, not like him. He might know about the various contraband lust potions, know how just a few drops would leave anyone moaning at your touch like a Knockturn Alley whore. He would certainly know about the love potions that could turn even your worst enemy into a soppy, moony fool but that was the sort of knowledge any Hogwarts graduate would have. Malfoy wouldn't know about a potion so rare some doubted its existence; its only mentions being in apocryphal tales of wizards running off to monasteries to resist the temptation it created and witches marrying their captors long after the potion's effects had faded. A potion that didn't just fake those feelings but could _create_ them. A potion that removed inhibitions, that could latch onto any attraction - however, mild or fleeting - and nurse it into a full-blown obsession that could only _possibly_ end when both parties had been mutually sated.

A potion far more subtle and dangerous than Amortentia.

Grabbing the two small jars, he eyed the large beetles that skittered inside each. These had cost a small fortune, incredibly rare and so valuable that they could only be transported by the dealer by Portkey. Dropping a beetle into each cauldron, he was greeted by twin _pops_ as they were absorbed into the brew.

His gaze drifted back to the engagement announcement. Yellowed and dusty, it was nearly a year old. One year of planning and waiting. A sense of malicious glee filled him as Megaerr took in the three happy couples. The betrothed couple stood in the middle - the girl tall like her father and with hair as unruly as her mother's. The boy looked the spitting image of his father and - despite his many accolades – shared the same lack of scruples.

Knowing that he would always be a distant second-best, Malfoy had wanted to buy his apothecaries, but Megaerr had naturally refused. It was his business, his dreams and his sweat that had built it and it would remain his till the day he died. When Malfoy realized he couldn't buy him out, he played dirty. With the help of his son and that awful Skeeter woman, he had dug through Megaerr's life looking for anything he could use against him. And Malfoy found it.

There were transgressions in his past, little peccadilloes he had always fought against in vain. Even if the law didn't always agree, it had always been consensual. Megaerr had never hurt anyone, never plied them with liquors and potions, never pushed farther than they wanted. But he knew other people wouldn't see it that way so he'd been discreet, hiding it from everyone, especially his late wife.

Megaerr watched as Malfoy's wife turned to grin at him, holding his arm as she did, her adoration for him clear even in that worn picture.

It hadn't mattered in the end. Malfoy had made certain that his personal affairs were splashed across the pages of the _Daily Prophet_ and Megaerr had lost everything: three years of his life in Azkaban, his business, and his family, including his wife - the shame of it all surely killed her.

Taking out two small vials of Appetite-Increasing Elixirs, he set them down on the table next to the bottle of Polyjuice Potion. The potions in front of him had bubbled and darkened to a brownish-red; they were almost ready.

As far as Megaerr was concerned, the punishment should fit the crime.

***

“They're late,” Draco announced for the third time as he watched the restaurant entrance for any sign of his son and his – Merlin, he'd never get used to this – daughter-in-law.

“They'll be here.” Asteria smiled as she took a sip of her wine. “Don't you remember what it was like when we were newlyweds?”

Despite knowing perfectly well what she meant, he chose to be difficult. “I don't recall losing the ability to tell time.”

Lowering her voice to the breathy whisper he'd always liked, she replied, “No, but I do recall us being twenty minutes late for a dinner with my parents because you just had to pull me into a water closet, bend me over the sink, and take me then and there.”

He smiled at the memory till another image rose unbidden in his mind.

“Oh, there they are! And in what a state.” Rose and Scorpius had entered, both a little flushed, a little tousled, and looking more than a little guilty. Draco rolled his eyes before standing to greet them, embracing his son and then awkwardly doing the same with Rose. With much more grace and ease, Asteria kissed and hugged Rose like an old friend. Little moments like these confirmed his long-held belief that his wife had been angling to bring the Weasley girl into their family from the first day they met.

“Sorry, we're late,” Scorpius said, pulling out Rose's chair for her. Looking down at his wife, he continued, “Problems with the, uh, Floo.”

“I didn't think there was much traffic on the Floo tonight,” Draco said mildly as he sat down. Asteria pressed down on his foot with her own.

“Don't worry, dear, I told your father that was probably it.”

 

***

Draco frowned down at his empty bowl. He hadn't thought he was that hungry and the bitter taste in his mouth made him wish he hadn't been. “Did that mousse taste odd to anyone else?”

Asteria and Scorpius both shook their heads but Rose nodded in agreement. “Kind of a metallic aftertaste, yeah?”

“Exactly. I think there's still polish on the silverware.” He lifted the fork up to the candlelight to inspect it, ignoring his wife as she tried push his arm down. “I never liked this place. The glasses are always spotty, our waiter looked half-troll, and now I think I've ingested a tablespoon of silver polish.”

“You'll survive, dear.”


	2. like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull

Rose Weasley was never going to be a great beauty.

As a child, she'd been a gangly and buck-toothed with wild hair and too many freckles. Yet, given her parentage, she wasn't as unfortunate as she could have been. As an adult, her hair had darkened some, she developed a figure (though her breasts were still too small and her hips just a bit too big), and had her teeth fixed.

(Draco had considered having his son's vision checked when he bemoaned the loss of resemblance to a chipmunk, claiming it had been “endearing.”)

Despite her hundred little flaws, he couldn't stop thinking about her. It startled him to think all the little idiosyncrasies about her that he had picked up over the years. The way she moved her hands as she talked, spreading her fingers apart with certain words. How her mouth curved over certain words, her tongue running over her lips when nervous. The way she crossed her legs at the knee, often jiggling her foot. How after a month spent on Greek beaches, her auburn hair had gold strands in it and the dusting of freckles on her shoulders now extended across her chest, dipping below her the neck of her blouse.

She had become a familiar melody that Draco couldn't get out of his head.

He'd spotted her the other day as she and a friend made their way down Diagon Alley, both still in their dark green Healer robes. With her hair and complexion, it was an attractive color on Rose. Rather than say hello, he had watched her as she spoke with her friend, lips splitting into a wide grin at a shared joke.

Like hearing that song again, Draco had hoped that seeing her would be enough to end this newfound fascination.

***

He awoke after a vivid dream of red hair spread across his pillow and tanned legs wrapped tightly around his waist. With a glance to be certain Asteria was still sleeping, Draco slipped into the loo. A few strokes and the realization he had just dreamt of fucking his daughter-in-law in his marital bed was all he needed to come.

Despite not remembering _when_ exactly, he knew he'd had that dream before.

***

Sunday brunch had been an awkward affair, at least for him. Draco had spent the entire time alternating between trying to look at Rose without anyone noticing and doing his best to ignore her presence at the table. He'd failed at the both; three times Rose caught him looking at her, the last being as he gazed at her legs beneath the glass tabletop under the guise of looking at his folded paper, almost transfixed by the small gap between her knees and his desire to slip his hand into that space. Rose had crossed her legs, the action causing him to look up and meet her stony expression with one of his own. Raising a brow at her as if _she_ were the one acting oddly, he didn't look at her for the rest of the meal.

Until now. With her back turned as Asteria showed her and Scorpius some new additions to the garden, Draco could watch her freely. Today she wore a halter dress that stopped just above her knees. Pale beige in color, it was difficult at first to tell where the dress ended and her skin began. With her hair up in a messy bun, he could see the ties at the nape of her neck. Quite certain she hadn't worn a bra, he imagined undoing those ties and covering her breast with his hand, thumb circling the hardened peak.

As if sensing his attention, Rose looked over her shoulder; the look on her face inscrutable.


	3. this is not what I do

Hands gripping her hips tight enough to bruise, he closed his eyes as he thrust in again. Instead of pale skin and sleek black hair, Draco pictured Rose's red curls and tanned back beneath him. It was _her_ on all fours, _her_ left breathless as they fucked, _her_ legs that spread a little more as he stroked her clit and _her_ cunt tightening around him after he came.

Satisfied, Asteria crawled up the bed, head hitting the pillow as she lie on her back. Dropping down beside her, he kissed her shoulder – an afterthought. Lately, their lovemaking had been bereft of those little afterthoughts on his part. Draco always intended to be more mindful the next time only to forget as he got lost in thoughts of his newest obsession. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he tried not to think about that.

Asteria broke the silence with an almost airy, “Who were you thinking about?”

Raising his arm, he looked at her in horror, stammering, “What? Nothing. You.”

She gave an odd laugh and he looked away. Before they'd never had a problem discussing whatever little desires and crushes they had. Asteria had an easier time of it, delighting in mentioning his in the most perverse ways possible during their intimate moments and cozying up to them as much as she could should their paths cross in real life. Draco had no problem doing the first, enjoying anything that would make her blush and squirm, but he couldn't do the latter. The few times he had run into Asteria's crushes, he'd been perfectly obnoxious and insulting. As childish and silly as it was, he hated them for taking her attention away from him.

While fun when they were alone, he wasn't entirely comfortable with her knowing he ever thought of anyone else. It seemed improper. But Draco couldn't deny the guilty thrill he got when she mentioned those fantasies.

And now he had one he could never tell her about.

***

Walking back to the apothecary after lunch, Draco spotted his son and Rose. Scorpius had his arms around her waist and she had hers looped around his neck as they talked outside a café. Once upon a time, he would have wondered if they'd ever grow past their need for adolescent displays of affection. Now, Draco could only feel a slow burn of impatience at this.

Catching his eye, Rose glanced away quickly – before Scorpius could notice – and pulled her husband into a kiss.

He didn't like being envious of his own son.

***

Perhaps, it was a mid-life crisis.

It was a Sunday and he and Asteria were engaged in their usual routine of her applying his bi-monthly Hair-Replenishing Tonic while she discussed various plans people had for her upcoming fiftieth birthday. The feeling of her fingers tracing over her scalp again and again soothed him and if he tried, he could block everything from his mind. Including Rose.

“I know! It's that French Herbologist who supplies you with dittany, isn't it? Celeste.” With an affected pout she added, “Eet eez alwayz a pleazure to see you, Monsieur Malfoy.”

Craning his neck, Draco stared at her. “What?”

The playfulness she was attempting faltered for a moment. “This woman you have on your mind.”

“There's no one on my mind.”

Unconvinced and undaunted, Asteria squirted some of the tonic at the nape of his neck, running her fingers up in that way she knew he loved. “I'm sure you haven't paid any attention to how tight her jumpers are or her full lips. You know, with that dark bob, she reminds me a bit of Pansy...”

Asteria nattered on like that for a bit till finally he snapped. “Stop it, will you? I've told you there's no one else!”

His shoulders slumped at the affronted look on her face. Taking her hand, he kissed her knuckles before giving her a small kiss on the mouth. “There's no one else. You're the only woman I love, you know that.”

She gave him a searching look. “I know that, Draco.”


	4. it's a small crime and I've got no excuse

“Are you feeling all right, Dad? You seem distracted.”

“You sound like your mother.”

Knowing that Asteria had been called into work today, he had stopped by the Ministry with the intent of taking her out for lunch. It was a gesture he felt he should make even if he'd rather spend the time alone. But she had been out and he had run into Scorpius instead.

“Well, maybe she has a point.”

“I just have a lot on my mind, that's all.” Not wanting to bother with a lie about what, he asked his son about his job, hoping to distract him.

It worked. Scorpius spent the next twenty minutes telling him about a misadventure he and another Auror (Weasley, by the sounds of it, though Scorpius wouldn't say his name) had regarding a young Troll that had wandered from its tribe.

“By the way, Rose mentioned that St. Mungo's will start using your Spattergoit Vaccinating Potion at the end of the year.” Scorpius said, taking a drink of coffee. “They were dead wrong to deny you your Order of Merlin for that.”

The outcry at the mere _idea_ of former Death Eater receiving an Order of Merlin Second Class had been deafening. There were even rumors that it was a nefarious plot on his part to spread Spattergoit. “The Ministry was never going to decide otherwise.”

“I wouldn't be so sure. Once they see it in action, it'll be hard to deny you've earned that medal.” It was meant to be reassuring and complimentary, he knew that, but Draco found it vaguely patronizing.

“I had hoped that - if anything - your time as an Auror would cure you of your need to assume people are reasonable and good.”

His son smiled cheekily. “There's plenty of time left for that.”

***

 

Scorpius had caused a stir eight years ago when he had been admitted into the Auror Program. The faith Potter had in him, his generally genial nature, and some early heroics on his part had been enough to overcome that. Rather than being Scorpius Malfoy, son of a former Death Eater and grandson of another former Death Eater, he was Scorpius Malfoy, general hero and possible future contender for Minister of Magic (if he so chose). The only thing that would stand in his way would be his name was the reasoning he'd heard on Wireless talk shows and read in the pages of the _Daily Prophet_. What a pity he had such a man as his father.

Rose smiled brightly at him from the photograph of Scorpius' final day of Auror Training, a tendril of hair pulling loose from her ponytail as she inclined her head. Picking it up from his desk, his thumb mostly obscured the images of his son and wife in the same frame.

It was a pity.

***

Maybe it was a guilty conscience or maybe he was simply losing his mind, but Draco had the nagging feeling that he was being watched.

Locking the door of his apothecary, he pulled down the shade, ready to call it a night when there was a knock. Peaking through the shade, his stomach swooped when he saw who it was.

He opened the door, raising a brow at Rose as he said, “This is a surprise.”

“I know, I'm sorry for not calling first.” Her hair was pulled back in another low ponytail and she nervously pushed a strand behind her ear. “I was leaving work and I remembered I had promised I would look into a comparison of sleeping potions for a patient of mine.”

The dread he felt at what was about to happen served only to amplify his excitement. “Come in.”

He spent the next fifteen minutes going slowly insane at her close proximity. Rose stood next to him as he lined up the various potions on the counter, discussing the strengths and drawbacks of each. She was close enough that he could smell the coconut shampoo she used and could catch a glimpse of her plain white bra thanks to the open collar of the shirtdress she wore. For what seemed like the hundredth time, her knuckles brushed his as she reached for one of the bottles.

“Sorry,” she whispered. He turned his head at this, noting the flush in her cheeks and watching as her pink tongue slid across her upper lip. She looked at him and his resolve snapped. Hand cupping the nape of her neck, Draco pulled her close and kissed her roughly. She gave a little whimper in response then slid her tongue against his lips and into his mouth. From her shaky breaths as he trapped her against the counter - nipping at her jaw and one hand cupping her breast - he had to imagine her heart was pounding just as fast as his.

Rose pushed him away. “I – I can't do this.”

Grabbing her purse, she fled the shop without another word.

***

The apothecary had six windows in all, not including the one in the door. Two in the front, two in the back office and two on the side, both giving excellent views of the brick and mortar of the buildings that flanked the shop. It was an architectural quirk that had long baffled the owners of the building, including Megaerr.

He knew from experience with unruly local children, that there was just enough space between the two buildings for the average child – or a thin adult – to slip through.

It hadn't been easy, he had spent three weeks following Malfoy, waiting for something. He'd spent days with his camera at the ready, constantly re-casting the Disillusionment Charm that protected him from notice and taking twenty pictures just to produce a single decent one.

In the end, it was worth it.

(Again and again, the picture of Malfoy pressed his daughter-in-law against the counter as they kissed.)


	5. you're pretty when you're mine

Silver flask in hand, Draco pulled the hood up on his cloak, looking around him before descending the stairs that lead into Knockturn Alley.

After Rose had run from the shop, he'd found a long strand of red hair clinging to the sleeve of his shirt. Pulling it free, he added it to some of the pre-made Polyjuice Potion he had and set off.

It was just an itch that needed to be scratched, then it would be over.

“Looking for company, love?” He turned to see a dishwater blonde with too many glamors and too little clothing leaning against a building as she smoked her cigarette.

“That depends.”

He told her what she wanted and after he ran a finger inside the neck of the flask and tasted the potion to prove it was nothing more insidious, she gave him a toothy yellow smile.

“For the right price I'll be whoever you want me to be.”

***

The sound of Rose's moans went straight to his cock. Pounding into her faster and faster, he bent his head to tease one hard nipple with his teeth. Rose's body arched underneath him, hips slamming against his as she tried to meet his thrusts and one hand snaking between them to stroke her clit.

She was close and so was he. “Say my name.”

“Draco, Draco, Draco...” the sound of Rose calling his name with her climax sent him over the edge.

***

The girl counted the Knuts he handed her, then snapped, “Five minutes, that's it.”

Five minutes was all he needed. Malfoy likely didn't know that this was the sort of place that would let customers watch other customers for the right price. Stepping into the fake closet that actually was a door to the next room, Megaerr cast the necessary charms so he'd remain unseen and unheard. Waiting for the right shot, he took a picture of Malfoy and his daughter-in-law's Polyjuiced twin as they were in the throes of passion.

***

Of course, he'd been late for dinner.

When Draco arrived home, he bypassed Asteria – trying to keep a distance between them lest she notice how reeked of cheap perfume and sex – and made up some excuse about a small accident at work. Hurrying up the stairs, he locked the bathroom door behind him. He stripped, hitting his clothes with another round of _Scourgify_ , and checked for any tell-tale marks on his neck and chest before stepping into the shower.

Resting his forehead against the cool tile, he wished he didn't have to face his wife. Those little looks of concern she'd been giving him over the past few weeks had been eating away at him. After tonight, after the line he'd crossed, he couldn't take it.

Eventually he turned off the water, dressed, and went into his bedroom where Asteria was waiting. She looked up from the book she was reading and he kissed her on the lips. “Have a nice shower, dear?”

“Quite.”

They both talked about their day. Asteria about how she'd been called in to wipe the memory of a Muggle who'd seen Merpeople while fishing and Draco about the potions accident that wasn't. What he'd done today wouldn't leave his mind. He could tell that his wife knew something was wrong, that she could read it in his face and hear it in every pause, but she didn't say anything.

Just as he had settled into the covers and was about to snuff out the last candle, she turned to look at him. “I forgot to tell you, I'm going to be gone next weekend. Daphne won't be around for my birthday so she suggested we spend a few days at the spa.”

The “spa” was a resort in France that - aside from being a spa - also did minor Elective Healing procedures. After her fortieth birthday, Asteria had made a few trips there at the suggestion of her sister. These visits were usually an occasion for him to tease her about coming home with a permanently surprised look on her face.

“You're gorgeous. You don't need anything done.” He meant it.

Something he couldn't identify – tenderness maybe, or sadness – flickered over her face. She covered it with a smile. “That's sweet but I'm going. I'm leaving Friday afternoon and I should return Sunday evening.”


	6. I can't tell where your lust ends and where your love begins

During his last two years at Hogwarts, he had dropped a good stone and a half thanks to a steady diet of fear and worry. His constant terror for his family and for himself and the sickening feeling in his stomach as he waited for the other shoe to drop had killed his appetite.

After Rose's visit, that feeling returned. He awoke the next day convinced she would tell Scorpius and he would lose everything – his son, his wife, and his reputation. So sure of this he could see the moment in his head; Rose's tearful confession that would blame him for everything and his son's reaction as he veered between hurt and anger. Every Floo-call, every knock at the door, had him at edge as he waited for what seemed like the inevitable.

In these moments, Draco truly hated her. He hated her for coming to his office, hated her for deceiving his son, and hated himself for still wanting her.

Even that sick feeling in his stomach couldn't stop him from being aroused at the memory of her mouth on his, the way she had moaned and whimpered and how she had looked nude and spread beneath him.

***

“You're smoking again.”

Asteria's cloy little attempts to draw him out were tiring. “I wanted a cigarette, is that a crime?”

She raised a brow at him, a hard look in her eyes. “Not at all, dear.”


	7. last time you scratched at my door

Draco picked up the silver flask, turning it in his hands and listening to the liquid move around inside. He had enough for one more visit. Sighing, he set it down on the counter. What he should do was just lock himself up in the shop for the weekend and work on the various projects that needed doing. It would be the prudent thing to do.

With a glance at the time, he decided to lock up and call it a day. It was a few minutes early but there hadn't been customers in nearly an hour. He had just turned the lock and did the charms when there was a knock at the door.

He didn't have to look to know who it was.

And she didn't bother with an excuse. “May I come in?”

What he should do was call her a dirty-blooded little whore and warn her that if she didn't want her _husband_ to know, she would never come back here before slamming the door in her face.

Draco moved aside to let her enter.


	8. strange what desire will make foolish people do

She sucked on his neck, biting the juncture where it met his shoulder then running her tongue over the bruise. Draco pulled open her blouse – ripping a few buttons in the process – and ran his hands up to cup her naked breasts. Pushing her against the counter like before, Rose slid one hand down to stroke his erection, his cock twitching from the touch.

Covering one breast with his mouth, his tongue circling the nipple, Draco pinched the other hardened nub. Rose cupped his head to her breast in response, panting and squirming when he did it again.

***

She hadn't worn any knickers either. Her shirt was open, his was on the floor. Skirt around her waist, Rose sat on the counter, legs spread and fingernails digging into his shoulders as he licked and sucked her clit. Draco slid a third finger inside her cunt and watched her as she moved her hips, fucking herself on his hand all the while pleading for his mouth.

He took his time, teasing her nipples and kissing her hard before returning to her clit, licking and sucking as she screamed with her orgasm.

***

Her legs over his shoulder as she lay on the counter, Draco fucked her hard, loving how wet and tight she was. Rose grinned lazily, idly running her hands over her breasts and between her thighs, her fingers brushing over his cock as she touched herself.

His thrusts becoming more erratic, he confessed his sins to her; how he had watched her, wanted her, how he had dreamt of this moment.

“I think of you when he's fucking me,” she whispered.

Draco cried out as he came.

***

They lay on the floor, Rose almost on top of him as they kissed. Draco slipped a hand between legs, her hips moving and eyes fluttering shut as he pushed a finger inside. She hadn't come when they were fucking and he knew she needed that release. Rose whined when he pulled his finger out, avoiding her clit as he touched her.

He kissed her neck, just below her ear, and whispered against her skin all the lewd things he still wanted to do to her.

***

Rose licked and sucked him till he was hard again. Watching her tongue circle the tip, guilt filled him as he remembered blue eyes instead of brown.

She took him all the way in her mouth, tongue sliding over his cock as she swallowed him and he couldn't think of anything else. Grabbing her hair, he couldn't resist a few shallow thrusts, her muffled moans encouraging him.

***

He hissed as she scratched his back hard enough to draw blood, thrusting into her sharply in return. Her head lolled back as she sighed. Draco licked and bit her exposed throat, moving down to suck at her breasts.

She breathed his name, shuddering and tightening around him with her climax. Two more pushes and he was spilling into her, shoulders shaking with his own orgasm.

***

They kissed once afterwards – right after, as they lay down on the floor. It didn't last long with the sweat covering their bodies cooling and the full awareness of what they'd done weighing down on them.

Rose moved first, pulling away from him and grabbing her clothes with trembling hands. Draco did the same. He had just done the flies on his trousers when he heard a small sob. Rose's shirt was half-buttoned and - frowning as if she was trying not to cry - she appeared to be looking for the missing buttons. She stayed like that for a few moments, wringing her hands and looking down at the floor.

“Sod it.” Throwing up her hands in defeat, she left the shop without a word to him.

***

Megaerr flipped through the thin stack, nine damning photographs in all.


	9. I cheated myself, like I knew I would

The spray of warm water burned as it hit the scratches on his back. Like the bruises she had left, they would have to be healed before Asteria returned. If he'd brought his wand in the shower, Draco would take care of them now so he could be rid of any reminders. All he wanted to do was to go to sleep and never think about this again.

He knew he wouldn't be so fortunate. If he was very, very lucky, Rose would never breath a word of this to anyone and they could move on with their lives.

What was the chance that the same woman who had left his shop in tears would have composed herself before returning home, or would it even matter? Would she simply tell Scorpius this time? She hadn't last time but then last time, she hadn't looked half-mad as she fled the scene of the crime. What if someone else saw her? What if she'd been spotted by one her many relatives or friends or enemies or _anyone who knew her_ and would find it suspicious how she looked leaving her father-in-law's shop just minutes before him?

Slamming his fist into the tile wall of the shower, he swore loudly. He'd been so stupid. He shouldn't have left so soon after her. He should have _Obliviated_ her to ensure she would never tell and it could never happen again.

And he should never have opened that damn door.

***

Stepping out of the shower, Draco wrapped a towel around his waist. As he hunched over the sink, he considered his options. There weren't many. He had to convince Rose that she should never tell Scorpius, that no matter how she felt, there was nothing to be gained by burdening him with this. It would destroy his son.

It would destroy _him_.

This was a nightmare. He had betrayed the two people he loved the most for a dirty-blooded Weasley brat. He must have lost his mind.

His sudden notion to spend the rest of the night with a bottle of Firewhisky struck him as the first good idea he'd had in weeks. Closing the mirrored door of the cabinet over the sink, the sight that greeted him caused a pain to twist his heart before shooting down his body.

There, holding his shirt that smelled of Rose and staring at the scratches on his shoulders, was his wife.

She tilted her chin up when he turned to face her, her jaw set and her eyes bright with unshed tears. Strange and awful as it was, he couldn't help but think she looked beautiful like that.

“I thought you were with your sister," he said to her hands, unable to meet her gaze.

“I lied.”


	10. I can not quite but nearly guarantee a divorce

He told her everything. There was no lie that would be convincing enough, no way to soften the truth. He told her about that kiss in his shop, the Polyjuice Potion, the whore in Knockturn Alley, and what had happened that night with Rose. Everything he had done seemed so much more real and vile when said aloud. He apologized again and again as if it would make a difference. It didn't. She had pressed him for more information, more details, but he refused. Anything more was cruel and unnecessary. At one point she had asked for comparisons he would never give, wanted him to “admit” he wasn't attracted to her any longer, that he didn't love her.

That hurt.

She hadn't screamed however. She hadn't even cried, though she looked close to both when he told her who it was. She had called him a “pathetic coward” when he suggested that Rose had slipped him something. He didn't argue with that but still thought his theory – if one were to assume that Rose Weasley was a brilliant actress – had merit.

And that was the last thing his wife had said to him.

Asteria didn't leave and she didn't kick him out. She'd spent the next two nights in a guest bedroom, the door locked to him as he would discover when he got bold enough to try. (He had thought he heard her crying and went to check. He spent the night sitting outside the door - unable to sleep - in case she changed her mind.) She seemed determined to ignore his existence while they were at home; leaving a room if he entered it and not even looking at him when he sat down across from her at the table.

He had no idea what would happen but every morning he wasn't greeted with divorce papers was a pleasant surprise.

***

Early Tuesday morning he awoke alone in bed, hard, and vivid images - Rose sucking him off and him fucking Asteria at her office - still in his mind.

Standing in the cold bathroom, fist around his cock, he tried in vain to only focus on the latter.

***

By Tuesday evening he had grown tired of the silence.

“What are we going to do? What if she tells Scorpius?”

Asteria laughed in his face.

They ended up yelling at each other, her argument boiling down to: “You should have thought of that before you fucked your son's wife.”

***

At work the next morning, Scorpius Floo-called him. Draco immediately knew two things: His son didn't know what had happened but he did know something was wrong.

Draco tried to ignore the first, drawing him into a conversation about work and what to get his mother for her birthday. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore how troubled his son looked and the question slipped out.

“Is something bothering you?”

It took him a bit; he talked at first about work and all the unpleasantries that came with being an Auror before moving on to what Draco knew to be his real concern. “I think something is wrong with Rose,” he told him slowly. “I came home Friday and found her sitting on the floor of our bedroom just... sobbing. I tried to comfort her, get her to talk, but she wouldn't tell me what was wrong. Then she said something about one of her patients but that doesn't seem right...”

“Maybe it was.”

His son frowned at this, clearly hoping for support. “Yeah, maybe. But she's been acting strange for weeks now. She was really distant after we came back from our honeymoon and now she's almost _clingy_. But she still won't talk to me or tell me what's going on.”

Draco eventually convinced his son to ignore his instincts, advising him to give her space. He hated himself for it.

***

Outside as he enjoyed his now-customary lunch of a cigarette, Draco spotted the familiar figure of his wife as she walked across the street. In the past, she would have stopped by, if only for a few minutes, but today she continued without a look in his direction.

Only after she had disappeared from view did he realize she was headed towards St. Mungo's.


	11. this broken feeling like their father or their dog just died

Entering the apothecary, Asteria locked the door behind her before heading right for him. He'd barely had time to register what was happening, to raise his hands in some feeble defense when she pointed her wand at him.

Draco winced as several hairs were ripped from his scalp, flying into the glass flask Asteria held in her other hand.

“You could have just asked,” he snapped, rubbing the sore spot on his scalp.

“I could have.”

She walked over to one of the back counters that lined the wall, the ones with the sinks and the small cupboards above them. He noted she had set two identical glass flasks on the counter and he didn't need to ask to know what was in the other. Opening the door, Asteria looked for the Potion Revealer he stored there. That she thought it had been a potion coupled with the mere possibility it _could_ have been, made him feel better than he had in ages.

Asteria pulled out the silver flask he had stored there a few days ago, holding it up to him with a questioning look.

“I emptied it Monday morning.”

With a small “hmph,” she tossed it aside.

Draco watched her work; he would have offered his help if he thought there was a chance she would accept.

“I went to visit our _daughter-in-law_.” Asteria held up the other glass flask before dumping its contents into the small cauldron. Her voice took on a snide, bitter edge as she continued, “Oh, but sorry, dear. As you know, the potion will destroy the hair sample so you won't be able to use it on your next visit to your Knockturn--”

“Don't do that,” he sighed.

A sneer twisted her mouth and she looked away.

How alike they were. How they both found it more soothing to lash out, to clutch their anger to them like a favored toy rather than feel any kind of sadness.

The uneasy silence lingered over them, the sound of the bubbling cauldrons and the busy street outside being the only noises. Asteria crossed her arms, looking away from him as she gazed about the shop. She was wearing the earrings he'd bought her for her first birthday after their son's birth. He wondered if it was a deliberate choice or just a painful coincidence.

Her brows furrowed as she looked about the room, gaze lingering on the counters and the door that lead to his back office. She was looking for something and when he realized what, he felt tired.

“Stop it.”

Asteria faced him, the surprise in her expression turning mulish as she frowned at him. When she spoke, however, her voice was calm, the challenge in her words lacing the question with a dangerous undercurrent. “Stop what?”

“Stop trying to figure out _where_.” He left the sentence at that; any euphemism he could have used would sound clumsy and he didn't want to be more specific. She knew what he meant.

“That's _all_ I'll be able to think about when I'm here.” Asteria looked away from him as her voice broke at the end.

Maybe, for her birthday, he could offer to burn the apothecary down.

He moved closer to her under the pretense of checking on the cauldrons and was pleased when she didn't back off, even if she refused to look at him.

“They're ready.”

The contents inside the cauldrons had turned a bright fuchsia. Pulling out two test strips, Asteria dipped them in, then set them on the flat piece of parchment as required. He was expecting any of the hundreds of lust or love potions to be named, even Amortentia. However, the dark pink letters spelled out something he'd never heard of before.

***

Once Asteria Malfoy stepped into the shop, Maegerr began inching his way out from his hiding space between the two buildings. The apothecary would be closing soon and he had no hope that Malfoy would attempt a tryst with his daughter-in-law today.

After seeing how _well_ they had responded to the potion, he decided to extend his surveillance in case there was an encore. But it had been five days and he had grown impatient. More evidence to hang around Malfoy's neck would be nice but unnecessary. He had already made three copies of the photographs and had the originals hidden somewhere safe. That was all he needed.

Tomorrow evening Rita Skeeter would return from her trip to the States and when she did, she'd find her copy of the pictures with an anonymous note attached.

***

Asteria spent the rest of the evening looking through the Hogwarts Library for information about the potion, finally finding a description and list of ingredients in a centuries-old book of recipes. Using that, Draco worked well into the next afternoon trying to discover who had purchased the rare South American beetles needed for the mixture.

As luck would have it, there were only two buyers in the past three months: a Japanese witch who had purchased one for a longevity potion, and his former employer, Maegerr Bobbin.

Draco owled his wife, telling her who it was and where he was going. He didn't wait for a reply, she would tell him not to go, to wait for her, and he knew they didn't have any more time to waste.

***

Floo and Apparition were out – Bobbin's shack wasn't connected to the Floo Network and the nearest Apparition point was miles away - so Draco flew. Leaning forward on his broom, he felt like he was back at Hogwarts chasing after the Snitch.

A large red circle with the word “STOP” appeared before him and Draco swore. He _would_ cross paths with the one Magical Lawn Enforcement officer out to do their job.

Already annoyed with the lecture he'd hear about his speed and the low altitude, he landed his broom. His feet had just touched the ground when his wand flew out of his hand. He scoffed at this, clearly it was an MLE officer who recognized the infamous Draco Malfoy.

“Is there a _problem_...” he asked as he turned around, the last word dying on his lips.

Holding him at wandpoint was his son.


	12. everybody knows it's me or you

“You fucked her.”

Scorpius pointed his wand at Draco's heart, the tip burning bright red. Draco shook his head, opening his mouth to say something but the words didn't come. His mind was numb.

His son took this as a denial. Holding up a large, brown envelope, he threw it in Draco's face. “Don't bother. I've seen the pictures.”

Against his better judgment, he opened the envelope. Him pushing Rose against the counter as they kissed, in bed with Rose's doppelgänger, ripping open her shirt, on his knees between Rose's spread legs as she threw back her head in ecstasy... he could still remember how she tasted.

Draco shoved the pictures back in the envelope.

Scorpius took a step closer and Draco could smell the sick on his breath when he spoke. “We weren't even married two months before you went after her!”

“Please, listen to me,” he reached out for his son and Scorpius jerked his arm away, aiming his wand at Draco's face. Hands held out in front of him in a gesture of surrender, he backed off. He told Scorpius about the potion, hoping to convince him it was all Bobbin's fault. “He'll have sent a copy of the photos to Skeeter, we should--”

“He did. I got them before she could check her mail.”

“Good.” He was surprised at his son's foresight. “That potion he used--”

“People have resisted Amortentia. Surely, a _Potions Master_ could have figured out what was happening if he'd really wanted to.”

He bit his tongue, ignoring the impulse to point out it wasn't just him, that Rose came after him - twice. “I didn't – It's not that simple.”

“Yes it is!” Scorpius hissed through clenched teeth, sparks shooting from his wand. “God, I've spent my entire life defending you. I trusted you. I loved you. But that didn't matter, did it? You saw your chance to one-up me and you took it.”

Even if his son had yet to realize it, the use of past tense wasn't lost on Draco. Scorpius had made his choice and he wasn't surprised to learn that he had lost.

"That's not true," he insisted, his voice hoarse.

Scorpius scoffed at this, his upper lip curling in disgust. “Admit it. You're jealous that I didn't fuck up my life like you did. That I'm respected by the same people who wouldn't even _look_ at you. That I have a future. You went after Rose to get back at me.”

Draco shook his head, refusing to entertain the idea that Scorpius could be right. He loved his son. He was proud of him. He had never wanted to hurt him. _That_ was the truth.

"It was all the potion, you have to believe that. I would never do that to you." Knowing what a dim view his son had of him, he quickly added, "Rose would never do that to you."

Scorpius stiffened when he mentioned Rose and he wondered if he had gone too far. A long moment passed between them and he readied himself for the hex that was surely coming. Then, as if all the fight went out of him, he lowered his wand and Draco let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't been worried for himself - he had more than earned whatever happened - but for Scorpius. No matter how upset he was now, he would regret it if he acted rashly.

Taking a step back, Scorpius turned away from him. Draco could make out his profile with the little light his wand was giving; his shoulders were slumped in defeat, his voice small as he asked, "Mum knows?"

"Yes. She found out after."

" _Found out_ ," he repeated with a bitter laugh. "Of course. You would never have told her otherwise, would you?"

"I hadn't decided what I was going to do." He had never intended to tell her, he had been too afraid she would leave and too ashamed to admit what he'd done. Given what he now knew, that Asteria had already suspected him of being unfaithful, Draco doubted he would have succeeded.

(That she had spent _weeks_ with this knowledge hit him hard.)

"You're such a liar."

"I didn't want to hurt her and I didn't want to lose her." Scorpius wouldn't look at him, instead staring into the distance, tapping his wand against his thigh. The frown on his face deepened and it appeared as if he might break down but then Scorpius drew a deep breath, steadying himself.

"I'm sorry," Draco said quietly. He had forgotten what it felt like being this helpless. The dull sense of despair that came with knowing nothing could be fixed and only time could sort it out. "I never wanted to hurt either of you."

Scorpius gave no sign he had heard this, still staring straight ahead. Even though Draco couldn't see it, he could hear Scorpius clench and unclench his free hand, knuckles cracking as he did. Suddenly, he looked at Draco, eyes narrowed as if remembering something. "You told me it was probably nothing."

"What?"

"That I should probably ignore it, that Rose was just upset over what happened at work." Draco flinched as Scorpius pointed his wand at him again. "Were you hoping for a repeat performance, _Dad_? Maybe thought that at Mum's birthday party, you and Rose could just sneak off--"

"Scorpius..."

"And you could just fuck her right there while Mum and I sat around like idiots, wondering where you two went? Then return like nothing happened. It could be a little joke between you."

"Stop it."

Scorpius shook his head, eyes not leaving his. "If Mum hadn't caught you, you would have done it again, wouldn't you?"

"No, I wouldn--"

He didn't finish the sentence.


	13. memories trapped in time

“Selling it wouldn't be right, you should take the manor.”

Using his fork to cut through his slice of cake, Scorpius took a bite, giving his wife a curious look. She shrugged as if to say, 'Why not?'

“We _were_ hoping to move out of our flat soon,” he admitted.

“Then it's settled. We can discuss the details later.”

“I have to be honest, Mum, I was surprised to hear you were retiring.” For years, she had put off such a move, loving her job despite its many downsides. There had been frequent arguments between her and Draco over this. He wanted to move to France to expand his chain of apothecaries further into the continent and she wanted to stay in England and keep her job.

None of that seemed to matter now.

“I know but I think it's time. Besides, I didn't fancy a daily commute from Cerbère to London and back again.”

The conversation briefly lingered on the weather in Southern France this time of year before moving on to Quidditch and Hogwarts, finally settling on some of Scorpius' more memorable childhood antics. Rose let out a loud guffaw as Asteria recalled how, as a toddler, Scorpius was determined to run outside of the manor completely naked. On one occasion, he'd managed to do so before his mum had noticed and proceeded to do a little victory dance on their front garden. Despite his jokes about it, Scorpius turned pink at the story and Asteria took mercy on him, changing the subject to the Christmas when he presented her and Draco with a wishlist that was six feet long.

Rather than join the conversation, he found he was content sit back and listen. In that moment, his son's easy laughter and his wife's voice were sweeter than any music.

It had been eight days since Megaerr Bobbin had died.

After hitting him with a few hexes that left Draco lying unconscious in the dirt, Scorpius went to see Bobbin. His wife had sent Rose to find Draco. The choice had seemed odd to the both of them, though they'd been too worried about Scorpius and too uncomfortable in each other's company to properly discuss it.

When they arrived back at the manor, Asteria had been calm and gracious, nearly doting on them as she swore that Scorpius was fine and brought them drinks to “settle their nerves."

Draco hadn't been surprised when Rose fell into a dead sleep after one sip of her drink.

Then Asteria told him the truth. How she had found their son sitting on the ground outside of Bobbin's shack, head in hands as he wept. How inside, Bobbin lay dead on the floor from one Stunning Spell to the heart, the room in shambles from the fight that had taken place. How she had known as soon as Rose called her that she was going to alter her son's memory and Rose's as well.

To say he supported her plan would have been an understatement. He was grateful for the chance to return everything to how it was. While Asteria took care of Rose's memory, Draco left for Bobbin's shack. He reburied the Transfigured bone that was left of Bobbin and went over every inch of his home, cleaning every surface, and searching for any more pictures. Five hours later and with nothing found, he wondered if it was possible they had destroyed every copy.

The last thing he did before he returned home was to remove all traces of magic his son had used, clearing his wand with _Deletrius_ and then recreating those same spells with his own wand. (He would later do the same to Asteria's wand - without her knowledge - ensuring he was the only one who could be tied back to the crime.)

As Rose and Scorpius slept – their memories altered to remember choosing to stay the night after having a few drinks and being unable to go home because the Floo Network in their flat was down for repairs – he and Asteria made plans. Their son wasn't going to Azkaban and certainly not for the likes of Megaerr Bobbin.

The possibility that Bobbin had sent the pictures to someone else hung over their heads. It could be hours or it could be days before they found out if all their trouble was for naught.

That morning the _Daily Prophet_ made no mention of any scandals featuring the Malfoy family. There was nothing on the wireless about it and no Aurors knocking on their door. Scorpius and Rose awoke feeling fine, aside from their slight hangovers, neither having memories of the affair or what lead up to it.

Later that day, after his son and wife had left, he and Asteria fell into bed. What began as a few reassuring kisses turned into something more urgent and hungry. His wife seemed intent on making up for lost time, reclaiming him as hers. Biting, sucking, scratching, and fucking till he was spent.

The next day, Asteria informed him of her intention to quit her job to work with him and her desire to move. She gave him several reasons, her worry about pressing her luck by staying at the Ministry and her wish to "start over" chief among them. They both knew there were other reasons that didn't need to be said.

“I didn't say that,” Scorpius said in a sing-song voice, he and Rose discussing an argument they'd had last week over juggling their respective work-schedules.

Mimicking his tone, Rose chimed, “Yes, you did!”

They continued like that for a bit before dropping the matter. When Rose left to make more tea, Scorpius apologized for the small scene. “I know you didn't come here for front row seats to _Variations on an Argument, Part 12_.” Brow furrowed as he stared down as he plate, he continued, "I feel like we've been having the same argument but..." his voice trailed off as he struggled for an explanation. "I don't know."

As casually as he could, he glanced at Asteria, watching for her reaction. Other than her hand briefly gripping her tea cup tighter than necessary, she remained outwardly calm. She had told him that while the memories themselves could be erased, the emotions were trickier. Some could be altered or channeled into false memories. Others would just have to fade on their own, becoming more and more dreamlike as timed passed and without a specific memory to anchor them to.

Asteria set down her teacup, the sound drawing Scorpius from his thoughts. Covering his hand with her own, she smiled brightly at him. “Don't worry about it, dear. Conflicts are a part of married life. It's how you resolve them that matters.”

 __

The End.


End file.
